


She Just Kept Pushing...

by aspiringwriterofamazingstories



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringwriterofamazingstories/pseuds/aspiringwriterofamazingstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Jerome was known as Gotham’s most dangerous and unstable criminal, Jerome was just a kid who was routinely abused by his mother and her lovers. On his eleventh birthday, he met a little girl of the same age who invited him over to her trailer to celebrate his birthday the right way. From that point on, he became close friends with both her and her mother, but nothing good lasts forever, and the older and the closer Candy and Jerome became, the more complicated things got.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of this fanfiction will be centered around who I like to call “Baby Jerome.” This Jerome is not the villain we know yet. He is much softer and more sensitive here. As the story progresses, you’ll start to see the darker and more dangerous Jerome we all know and love, so don’t expect to see it early on.

It was just another birthday, and although Jerome should have been numb to the rocking of the trailer after being forced to stay outside following a routine beating at the hands of his mother and her lover of the week, the poor eleven year old redhead found himself on the verge of tears as he did every year. The only thing left was for Mr. Cicero to stop by to offer him his far from uplifting words of encouragement.

This year, however, was different.

His hands had been buried in his face as the trailer continued to jerk back and forth mercilessly behind him when he heard the familiar sounds of footsteps approaching him. He wasn’t sure he could take the expected verbal beating from the old man this year. Rage bubbled inside of him as he heard the footsteps grow closer. Perhaps this would be the year he cracked.

“Excuse me.”

The voice surprised him. Rather than being that of a pathetic old man, it was the soft, sweet voice of a little girl. Tawny with brown wavy hair that looked soft to the touch and large hazel eyes. She held in her palm a cupcake with purple frosting and green candy sprinkles. “My mom said something about it being your birthday,” she said before tilting her head with furrowed brows, “Why are you crying?”

Jerome had known about the new horse acrobat and the daughter she had around his age, but because of how occupied he had been with his mother’s abuse, he didn’t have a chance until now to put much thought into it. The answer to her question was humiliating, so he found himself examining the tear stains in the palms of his hands rather than giving it to her. As if she could read his thoughts, she dropped the subject and sat next to him in the dirt.

“I don’t really get the chance to meet other kids,” she said after a few moments of silence. He looked up from his hands, and at the sight of her friendly smile, he felt something foreign. Never had he known what warmth felt like until this very moment. Until this sweet girl offered him her kindness. “I’m Candy,” she said as she handed him the cupcake. She then reached into her pocket to pull out a small candle and a lighter. “And you’re Jerome, right?”

It seemed she was about to flick the lighter to light the candle she had just used to penetrate the center of the frosting and sprinkles when she paused and turned at the sound of an ecstatic moan coming from the trailer. Poor Jerome flushed with embarrassment. He was so close to making a friend, and now he was sure she’d be too disgusted to even be near him. Who wouldn’t be after what she just heard? He figured she was probably regretting her decision to approach him, and at any moment, she would snatch the cupcake and scurry away to her own trailer.

To his surprise, she didn’t.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said as she stood and brushed off her overalls. She then held her hand out to him with lips curled. His brows furrowed and he felt genuinely confused. “Come on,” she said, “It’s just a hand.” There was a slight hint of a giggle at the end of her words. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. Was this a cruel joke? Did his mother put her up to this so she could laugh at him later. He could just imagine her cruel words. “Did you seriously think any kid--let alone a girl--would want to be friends with you?!”  
But when he looked up at her once again, he could sense not even the slightest hint of cruelty or deceit in her smile. It was real, and there was a voice deep inside of him calling out to him almost desperately to take her hand. He needed this. He needed a friend.

He took her hand and she gently pulled him up to his feet. “There we go,” she said still grinning, “Told you it was just a hand.”  
She didn’t let go as she led him away from his trailer, and he was glad she didn’t. He would have been happy if she hadn’t been taking him anywhere. He would wander aimlessly into the woods and get lost with her so long as she never let go of his hand. He could tell it wasn’t a big deal to her, but her taking his hand was better than any birthday present anyone could ever give him. 

Eventually, they came upon a trailer he was not familiar with, and it didn’t take long for him to realize it was hers as they approached the entrance. “We’ll celebrate your birthday in here,” she said before gently pulling the handle down and pushing the door open. He was greeted by the sight of a surprisingly clean and organized interior, a far cry from what the inside of his trailer was. He found himself thankful she hadn’t wanted to go inside of his and hoped--if they were, in fact, friends--that she would never ask. He usually had to do the cleaning himself with no help from his mother. He did the best any kid could do in his situation, but it was hard when his mother and her lovers made a game of always trashing the place. Candy’s trailer even smelled nice, like freshly baked cake, and he soon noticed a round plate of frosted and sprinkled cupcakes not at all unlike the one he held in his hand at the center of a table in the cramped dining area.

“Mom!” Candy called out, “I’m home, and we have a guest!”

Candy pulled out a chair for him and he sat down. It didn’t take long at all for a very beautiful woman with blue eyes and a heart shaped face to appear from behind a closed door wearing a salmon colored silk robe and drying her wet blonde hair with a white fluffy towel. “Indeed you do,” the woman said with a bright smile directed at Jerome, “Who is this handsome young man?”  
Jerome felt his pale cheeks flush as Candy introduced him. “It’s the birthday boy!” she said, “His name is Jerome, and well, we can’t eat all of these cupcakes on our own, right? And since it’s his birthday, I think he deserves more than just the one he has there.”  
“I agree,” Candy’s mother said, “but I’m sure his mother would prefer he celebrate with her.”  
Jerome looked down at the cupcake in front of him as if to distract himself with the swirl of sweet purple and green. Of course, he thought, her mother didn’t want to be burdened by him. Who would?  
“Well,” Candy said, “She’s kind of...busy…”  
There was a long pause before Candy’s mother cleared her throat. Jerome got the feeling there was a silent understanding between mother and daughter. Perhaps she understood what Candy meant by just exchanging a few knowing expressions. “Very well then,” her mother said before reaching over and placing her hand on top of his. It was so warm, he felt his whole body relax almost instantly. He was so used to touches being painful. Slaps across the face. Shoves. Kicks. A touch like the one Candy’s mother just gave him was so foreign, it nearly overwhelmed him. He looked up to see her mother wearing a similar kind of smile to what Candy had been wearing when she first approached him. “Has anyone sang ‘happy birthday’ to you yet?” she asked.  
He furrowed his brows and slowly shook his head. “No worries,” she responded, “We’ll just have to sing it to you.” She then turned her attention to her daughter. “Get the lights, sweetie,” she said. He watched as Candy hopped up from her chair and headed towards the front door where the light switch was located and flipped it off. He then turned at the sound of the small lighter being ignited. Her mother lit the candle on the small cupcake which caused the small area they sat in to be slightly illuminated. “A one, and a two,” her mother counted, and then the two began to sing.

It wasn’t a big deal, or at least, it should not have been a big deal. As the two women sang Happy Birthday to him, however, he felt a lump form into his throat, but he absolutely refused to let himself cry. He had always been made fun of for crying, so he wasn’t about to embarrass himself. When they came to the end of the song, he looked to see Candy smiling with anticipation--the dim light of the candle beautifully complementing the angles of her face--as if him making a wish was just as important to her as it was to him. “You know the drill,” she said, “Make a wish!”  
That stupid lump in his throat made it difficult to blow out the candle, but the week breeze that he was able to let out was enough to snuff it out. Candy and her mother clapped for a moment or two before her mother got up to turn the light back on. To his dismay, that bothersome lump in his throat had not gone away by the time the light revealed him fully to the two women, but neither Candy nor her mother seemed to mind his slight trembling lip.

“Can I stay here?” he asked softly.  
Her mother gave him another warm smile. “You can stay here long enough to have all the cupcakes you want,” she said, “but you’ll eventually have to go back to your own trailer.”  
He let out a sad sigh, which seemed to cause Candy to chime in almost immediately. “But hey!” she said cheerfully, “We’re not going anywhere. You can come over tomorrow, okay? Right, Mom?”  
She looked over at her mother who turned her smile to her daughter. “Of course, sweetie,” she said, “Jerome can come over as much as he wants.”

The lump in his throat seemed to grow at that point. “Thank you,” he said with an even gentler tone. Candy then walked around the table and took the empty seat next to him. “Alright, birthday boy,” she said, “Time to dig in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome grows closer with Candy and her mother, but nothing goes unnoticed by his own mother, and things take an alarming turn on the day of Jerome's seventeenth birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers/Warnings: There are mentions of child abuse in this chapter. Nothing too graphic, but I'd thought I'd write down a warning anyway to be safe.

Jerome’s next six birthdays would be celebrated in Candy’s trailer, and as promised, Jerome was welcomed into their home quite often between birthdays. The boy had been so used to feeling unwanted, however, that he had a habit of asking ahead of time when he had been told more than once he didn’t have to. He also had a habit of addressing Candy’s mother as Miss Carmichael even when she insisted he just call her Judy. He couldn’t help it. He got the feeling she cared, but he knew he really wasn’t a part of the family as he wished he could be, so he didn’t feel he had the right to address her informally. 

He did not envy Candy for having such a sweet mother. To envy her would mean he held resentment towards her, and that was impossible for him. He couldn’t imagine feeling any negative emotion towards his dear friend. He did, however, find himself wishing Miss Carmichael was his mother quite often. Every time he watched the two of them laugh together while baking sweet treats. Every time he watched Candy’s eyes light up as Miss Carmichael gracefully performed her tricks on top of her horses just as much as the show’s audience. Every time she gave him a peck on the head at the end of each visit before he returned to his actual cruel mother. Miss Carmichael was the mother of his dreams, and as the years passed and he grew older, Candy soon became the girl of his dreams.

Candy was determined to be a skilled performer just like her mother, and when he could find the time between his chores, he’d sneak into the tent and sit in for a bit during a practice session. Miss Carmichael welcomed it, of course, telling him it was good for her to practice with an audience. Candy would usually give him her loveliest cheerful smile and wave once she spotted him in the stands. Such a simple gesture would send his heart racing as he’d feel his face flush while waving back. It was a brief moment the two would share before she immediately went back to business and turn her full attention back to the horse she rode and on the positions Miss Carmichael called out to her from the side.

“Basic seat!” her mother would call, and Jerome watched Candy raise her arms in the air.  
“Flag!” her mother would then call and Candy would hop onto her knees on the saddle and extend her right leg straight behind her and hold it slightly above her head all while the horse trotted at an easy pace. To Jerome, these two basic moves were impressive and looked perfect, but her mother would always provide gentle constructive criticism. “Try to remain steady,” she’d say or “Your leg needs to be parallel with the horse’s spine. Let’s try again.”  
Of course, Jerome would always make sure to tell her afterwards how wonderful she looked.

It wasn’t just her improving skills in acrobatics that made her all the more wonderful to him, but with each passing year, she was becoming more and more beautiful. She was changing from a cute little girl who chose him as a friend for whatever reason to a stunning young woman. She grew taller, her wavy hair grew fuller and so did her lips, but her lovely hazel eyes remained unchanged. They were the kind of eyes that could make a boy melt just by looking into them. He always felt so warm when she looked his way, and sometimes her eyes took him back to that fateful night when she approached him on his birthday. She turned the heads of the male guests before each show as she led Jerome by the hand into the tent to watch her mom. Being the sweet girl she was, she would grace those young men with a smile, but she would give them nothing more. The very idea that she seemed to value his company over any of those fetching young men was amazing to him, but he never brought it up. He chose to be thankful for her company rather than analyze it more than he already did. He constantly reminded himself that he was her friend. He could never fathom the thought that she might actually view him in any way similar to how he viewed her. He was just a boy with ‘mommy issues,’ while she was a gorgeous girl with talent and grace who could have any boy she wanted. Why would she settle for him?

On nights when his mother was being extra cruel to him, whether she was giving him a good beating or a tongue lashing, he would distract himself from the pain by forcing his mind to wander back to his shared moments with Candy. Every time his mother shouted at him, he thought about the way Candy laughed at one of his jokes, even if he himself thought the joke was a bit too silly. When his mother slapped him, he thought about the few times when Candy gave him a peck on the cheek with her soft lips. When one of his mother’s boyfriends punched and kicked him, he thought about the many times Candy and Miss Carmichael took him to the horse trailers and let him give some of the horses carrot sticks as treats. When he was down on the ground being kicked and shoved by both his mother and whatever boyfriend she had at the time, Jerome brought himself back to those few times when he and Candy would just sit in the empty tent after a show and just talk and enjoy one another’s company. Sometimes they’d stay late, and a tired Candy would lean on his shoulder and hold his hand. Her hair would always smell like fresh wildflowers and it was enough to soothe him into forgetting about the problems that troubled him. Forget about having to go home. Forget about having to take a beating from his mother. In those moments, his mother didn’t exist. She was just a really bad nightmare, and those moments with Candy were real and the only things that mattered.

Candy and Miss Carmichael had helped him to hold onto his sanity. If it hadn’t been for their kindness, he was sure he would have gone insane with resentfulness and hate. They showed him how life could be good sometimes and that it was possible for people to love him. It was for that reason on his seventeenth birthday that he decided it was time to tell Candy his feelings. He knew without a doubt that even if she did not feel the same way, she would still love him as a friend and he would still be allowed to come over as often as he pleased. He knew he desired something a little more than a friendship with her, but the worst that would happen would be that he remained her friend, and he was absolutely fine with that. He knew he was fortunate to have that much with her.

With all of that in mind, however, he couldn’t stop the nerves that caused his heart to race and his hands to tremble slightly as he cleaned the show area inside the tent. Not even the stench of animal waste inside the animal quarters was enough to distract him from how anxious he was to see Candy that day. He found himself wishing more than once that time would go faster as he forced himself to push negative thoughts out of his mind. He knew Candy better than that stupid inner voice inside of him, and he reminded himself over and over that whether or not she felt the same, things would be okay between them.

Unfortunately, his mother had asked him earlier to come back before the afternoon was over to help clean up the trailer, and by help, she meant that she wanted him to do all of the work. Luckily, it seemed she had been quite hungover, so he hoped she would be too drained to throw a slap or a few kicks in before he was able to leave. 

When he entered the trailer, he wasn’t at all surprised to see the place was a mess, but he was quite surprised to see his mother up and sitting in a chair in the living area and smoking a cigarette. She wore her favorite robe. Deep red silk with fluffy feather trim. It was short enough to expose most of her thighs. She swiveled around, the smoke of her cigarette forming a partial circle around her head as she did. “Well, if it isn’t my little Jerome,” she said staring him dead in the eyes. Her voice was groggy and tired. She probably didn’t have the energy to physically beat him today, but that didn’t mean she would turn down an opportunity to verbally and emotionally abuse him. “You mean you actually came back to do as I asked?” she continued, “You sacrificed precious time you could be spending with that little slut and her mother to help your own mother?”

Hearing his mother call his best friend such a vile slur was enough to make his blood boil. “Her name is Candy,” he said, but the statement came out a little more firmly than he had meant. Never had he used such an edgy tone towards his mother, and he could tell it was a mistake, for her face went from tired to stoney in almost an instant. “I beg your pardon, you little shit,” she said, “but did you forget who you’re talking to, or are you stupid enough to believe that if you spend enough time with someone else’s mother that they’ll become your mother?”  
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Jerome said feeling a chill as his own voice went soft again, “I’m sorry, I just--”  
“Come off it, you little brat,” she said, “You think I haven’t noticed these past few years how much you think has changed? Some little girl give you attention and is nice to you and you think that changes who you really are? Are you kidding me? Hell! Maybe that bitch’s mother wants to adopt you!”  
Her tone of voice began to pick up. A sarcastic tone she used when she really wanted to hurt him with her words. “Please, Jerome,” she said, “Perhaps Little Miss Perfect Momma thinks the world of you. Couldn’t dream of a reason why your own evil bitch of a mother would be so cruel to you. Well, maybe she’ll figure it out one day. All it takes is one mistake. One bad day. Perhaps one day you’ll leave the door open to the trailer that holds the bitch’s horses allowing them to run free into the woods or maybe you’ll break a plate. Maybe then she’ll see you for the pathetic little mistake you really are, and then she’ll sympathize with me. I can imagine it now. She’ll be at our door all but begging me to keep him away from her and her daughter.”  
She then laughed as if such a scenario delighted her.

He went from scared to angry again as she spoke, and for the first time, he felt like he could lash out at her. Perhaps it was because she was alone and wouldn’t have the help of a lover, or maybe it was because he could still see she was struggling with a hangover. Either way, he felt some sort of courage inside of himself to stand up to her. He, however, forced himself to remain where he was as his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. “I’m leaving, Mother,” he said. She looked him square in the eyes as she jammed her half used cigarette down into the ashtray on the small table near her chair before standing up. “What did you say?”  
His teeth gritted. He could even hurt her now if he wanted, but what would Miss Carmichael and Candy think of him if he did? “I’m leaving,” he repeated. He watched his mother’s expression change once again. She held nothing but hate in her eyes as she began to move forward, but before Jerome could regret his actions, she stumbled over the table of which she put out her cigarette and fell flat on her face.

He watched as she pathetically raised herself slightly on her hands. She looked up at him now. Seething. “You ungrateful little bastard!” she said before holding a hand up towards him, “Come here and help me up.”  
But instead of doing what she demanded, he stood there a few moments as a smirk formed across his lips. There was something satisfying about seeing his mother need his help like this. Seeing her below him. Vulnerable to being kicked as she had kicked him many times. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he said before turning his back to her.  
“You little shit!” she shouted after him as he walked out of the door and closed it behind him. “You’ll be sorry!” she screamed, but the door dividing them muffled her words and took a bit of their power away.

His smile didn’t fade as he continued to distance himself from his own trailer and grow closer to Candy’s. Something about the situation with his mother that just unfolded made him feel stronger. That small voice that made him feel as if he’d never be good enough for Candy was silenced, at least for the time being. He was going to walk right up to her door and knock ready to reveal his heart to her. For a brief moment, he felt nothing could go wrong.

...but of course, nothing was ever that easy for Jerome.

When he approached the door, he was greeted by the sound of a glass crashing inside.  
“Mom?” he heard Candy say, “Mom?!”  
The sound of footsteps followed. “MOM!”  
He had never heard Candy sound so terrified and panicked. He swung open the door and launched himself inside to see Candy on her knees and hunched over an unconscious Miss Carmichael. The shattered glass of lemonade displayed on the floor only a few feet from where she laid. “Jerome!” Candy looked at him with fear and desperation, “Go get help!”  
“Call 911!” Jerome said before running back out of the trailer and calling for anyone who may have been near, but even as familiar faces gathered towards him to see what the fuss was about before hurriedly running towards Candy’s home, he felt in the pit of his stomach that things wouldn’t be the same. 

Never once as they did their best to care for Miss Carmichael as they waited for the ambulance to arrive did he consider checking on his own mother, who was probably still lying on the floor of their trailer.


End file.
